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March 31, 2004Embarrassing moment contest!
I suffered one of the more embarrassing moments in recent memory on Monday afternoon, and it's inspired me to start up a new contest. But first, all the gory details...
My Spring Quarter of school was slated to begin last Monday, with a three-hour graduate poetry workshop from 4 to 7 p.m. I got there a bit early and chatted with my half-dozen classmates, all but one of whom I've had in class before. I've never met the professor, but he seems like an affable enough guy. He asks me what I think of "Geek Love," which I had started earlier in the day and brought with me onto campus. So far, so good.
Then, about ten minutes past four, the class begins. That's when things went downhill, and fast.
The professor begins to talk about poetry, but refering to schools of thought and literary theories for poetry that I'd never heard of. He draws a quick diagram somehow fusing poetry and math into something I couldn't decipher.
I feel a mild sensation of concern.
He tosses out the names of the seven books of poetry we'll be reading this quarter. Again, never heard of 'em.
The concern is growing.
Then, he assigns each of us one of the books. Each week, one student will give a 20-30 minute presentation on their author and poetry collection--a formal, academic presentation, thoroughly researched. The date for my presentation falls three weeks from then. On top of that, I need to bring in ten to fifteen poems of mine next Monday, for peer review over the course of the quarter.
The concern is threatening to blot out the sun.
All along, it should be mentioned, the professor is trying to allay the concerns of the non-poetry students in the class. I appreciate his going to the trouble to try and quash folks' first-day jitters, but color me unsoothed.
Still, I'm trying to keep an open mind. I'm trying to wait until the three hours are up before I decide to drop the class. I clearly haven't written or read poetry at volume or level of intensity needed for even a basic understanding of this course--a course which is, I should hasten to add, a workshop course.
Then the professor says he wants us to write a poem. Right there. In class.
Suddenly, my poetic incompetence--which it looked like I had a few weeks to hide--was slated for immediate unveiling. I panicked. I stood up and excused myself from the class. One of my classmates thought I was joking, until I explained to her in no uncertain terms that I was totally unqualified to be there, and that I had to leave right away. I stumbled out of the room, out of the building, and into the late afternoon sun, feeling much like the preschooler who fills his drawers on the first day of school and has to come home early. I'd lasted roughly 50 minutes into my first graduate poetry workshop.
I can laugh about it now, but at the time, I was mortified. I'd never felt so out of place in a classroom before--especially any sort of creative writing class. Granted, I hadn't gone into the class with any idea of what would be expected of us. I just wanted to flex my stanzas a bit and get a better idea of myself as a poet, and instead I stumbled into a class deserving of formal prerequisites.
CONTEST: Describe a situation during which you felt embarrassed, out of place, under-qualified, incompetent, or all of the above. Entries will be accepted until midnight on April 30th.
PRIZE: This huge drum of Kikkoman soy sauce. I'll dole out a few runner-up prizes, the number and quality of which will be so arbitrary as to seem capricious.
Posted by patrick at 11:08 PM | Comments (2)
Weak "Geek Love"...
I read Katherine Dunn's "Geek Love" on Monday, and I have to admit, for it being a National Book Award finalist, I was let down.
Dunn is a very good writer, and I have no beef with her craft or her workmanship. My main complaints are with the characters, who, for all their sideshow freakishness, never managed to make me care about them. I also wasn't too fond of the narrator, a character of peripheral importance in the story. Like everybody else in the sideshow family, she sits back and allows her smarmy fish-brother to evolve from punk teenager into a meglomaniacal cult leader. Her love for said brother was rolled out as the source of her passivity, but I was never given reason to believe in it--and it didn't justify why everybody else let the kid do whatever he wanted, too.
"Geek Love" ended quickly, and weakly, and without me caring a whit about any of the paths the character had taken. The book annoyed me more than a poorly-written book would. Dunn clearly knows her craft, so when you fail to connect with the characters, you can't help but assume it was a conscious choice on her part.
Looking over the reader reviews on Amazon.com, people seem to fall into three camps on the topic of "Geek Love": those who gush that it's the best book they've ever read, those who were too horrified by the subject matter (which, admittedly, makes Palahnuik's stuff seem a little sedate by comparison) to judge it as a text, and those who didn't feel that the book deserved its hype. I'm of that last camp, obviously.
Posted by patrick at 09:34 PM | Comments (0)
March 26, 2004
Hamburglar under Sharia...
I don't know what prompted it, but while I was driving home from Los Angeles today, I wondered how a country governed by Islamic law would react to the Hamburglar.
Not terribly well, I'd wager.
Posted by patrick at 02:15 AM | Comments (0)
March 25, 2004
Gordon Korman
I was talking to my friends Missy and Rob tonight about books, and I remembered Gordon Korman, a children's author whose books I'd really enjoyed back in the day. He published his first book at age fourteen or fifteen (in 1978). I read just about everything he published through 1988, but I didn't know until tonight when I went looking for him on the internet that he's published pretty consistently ever since. A pleasant bit of news, that. I remember especially enjoying the first five titles in his Macdonald Hall series, "A Semester in the Life of a Garbage Bag," and "Don't Care High". I don't know how much luck I'll have scaring up his older titles, but I might give it a go and treat myself to a trip down memory lane...
Posted by patrick at 01:46 AM | Comments (0)
March 23, 2004
Look, Ma! Barbarians!
Apparently, a movie-goer was beaten pretty severely after shushing another theater patron at a screening of "The Triplets of Belleville" in Ann Arbor, Michigan last Saturday.
I would expect this sort of thing at a loud, violent, typically Hollywood movie, but "The Triplets of Belleville"? People shouldn't be beating each other down at screenings of indie French cartoons, for crying out loud!
It reminds me of the time, back during my undergrad days, when I witnessed a knock-down, drag-out fistfight at Starbucks. It ended with the two combatants running out of the coffee shop, the University Village police hot on their trail. As some unfortunate barrista mopped up the blood, I thought to myself, "Another safe-haven for the books-and-discussion sort, sacrificed to the barbarian hordes."
Posted by patrick at 08:15 PM | Comments (0)
March 20, 2004
Fortune cookies: a misnomer
From last week, when something possessed me to buy a small bag of fortune cookies along with my lunch at Village Wok and see what all I had in store:
"Do something unusual tomorrow."
"You will have full contentment by summer's end."
"You have a deep appreciation of the arts and music."
"Good things are coming to you in due course of time."
"Your happiness is intertwined with your outlook on life."
"You have a deep appreciation of the arts and music."
"You outdistance all competitors."
"Cherish home and family as a special treasure."
"Any troubles you have will pass very shortly."
"You are compassionate and fun-loving."
Of the ten cookies, only three of them really contained fortunes. The rest of them yielded insights, suggestions, and flattery. Now I just eat Manischewitz macaroons (only 99 cents a tin at Ralph's right now with the Club Card). They're tastier, and they keep their opinions to themselves.
Posted by patrick at 05:33 PM | Comments (0)
Free shade trees!
The Riverside Public Utilities Department is giving away shade trees up to $25 in value, or a $25 reduction in price on a more expensive tree. If I were living in a house instead of an apartment complex, and could plant trees with impunity, I'd definitely claim one.
Posted by patrick at 05:23 PM | Comments (0)
It's been a busy week,
It's been a busy week, what with my birthday, the opening of "The Musical Comedy Murders of 1940" down at Redlands Footlighters, and the end of the Winter Quarter at UCR. I plan on spending my Sprink Break as unproductively as possible. Well, that's not really true; I plan on doing all sorts of things, but all of them fun and relaxing.
First on my list of things to do is to go see "Dawn of the Dead" this afternoon. I'm always up for a good zombie movie, and from what I've heard/read, this one ain't half bad--as opposed to "Taking Lives," which also opened yesterday, and which I know for a fact to be completely bad because my friend Erin and I saw it as members of a test audience a few months back.
In skimming the "Taking Lives" page on RottenTomatoes.com, I was gratified to see that a good number of reviewers have compared Angelina Jolie's career tailspin to Ashley Judd's trailblazing mediocrity. Judd's hideous resume has transformed her into something more--and less--than human, a creature with which to scare child actors: "Don't turn in terrible performance after terrible performance, or you'll turn into Ashley Judd!"
I used to carry a bit of a torch for Ashley Judd, I will admit. That was before I found out she used to date Michael Bolton, and before she cranked out 11 forgettable or actively bad movies in the seven years since her last half-decent performance in "Kiss the Girls". Her latest offering was "Twisted," a cinematic tour-de-force that received a whopping two positive reviews out of the 115 that were compiled.
With any luck, though, Angelina Jolie will have packed it in before her own career hits such a nadir. Her son is quite taken with planes, and Jolie has said publically that she'll quit acting as soon as she's learned to fly.
Posted by patrick at 12:53 PM | Comments (0)
March 17, 2004
In case anybody's been wondering
In case anybody's been wondering with which historical lunatic I identify most closely:
"You are Joshua Abraham Norton, first and only Emperor of the United States of America!
"Born in England sometime in the second decade of the nineteenth century, you carved a notable business career, in South Africa and later San Francisco, until an entry into the rice market wiped out your fortune in 1854. After this, you became quite different. The first sign of this came on September 17, 1859, when you expressed your dissatisfaction with the political situation in America by declaring yourself Norton I, Emperor of the USA. You remained as such, unchallenged, for twenty-one years.
"Within a month you had decreed the dissolution of Congress. When this was largely ignored, you summoned all interested parties to discuss the matter in a music hall, and then summoned the army to quell the rebellious leaders in Washington. This did not work. Magnanimously, you decreed (eventually) that Congress could remain for the time being. However, you disbanded both major political parties in 1869, as well as instituting a fine of $25 for using the abominable nickname "Frisco" for your home city.
"Your days consisted of parading around your domain - the San Francisco streets - in a uniform of royal blue with gold epaulettes. This was set off by a beaver hat and umbrella. You dispensed philosophy and inspected the state of sidewalks and the police with equal aplomb. You were a great ally of the maligned Chinese of the city, and once dispersed a riot by standing between the Chinese and their would-be assailants and reciting the Lord's Prayer quietly, head bowed.
"Once arrested, you were swiftly pardoned by the Police Chief with all apologies, after which all policemen were ordered to salute you on the street. Your renown grew. Proprietors of respectable establishments fixed brass plaques to their walls proclaiming your patronage; musical and theatrical performances invariably reserved seats for you and your two dogs. (As an aside, you were a good friend of Mark Twain, who wrote an epitaph for one of your faithful hounds, Bummer.) The Census of 1870 listed your occupation as "Emperor".
"The Board of Supervisors of San Francisco, upon noticing the slightly delapidated state of your attire, replaced it at their own expense. You responded graciously by granting a patent of nobility to each member. Your death, collapsing on the street on January 8, 1880, made front page news under the headline "Le Roi est Mort". Aside from what you had on your person, your possessions amounted to a single sovereign, a collection of walking sticks, an old sabre, your correspondence with Queen Victoria and 1,098,235 shares of stock in a worthless gold mine. Your funeral cortege was of 30,000 people and over two miles long.
"The burial was marked by a total eclipse of the sun."
Posted by patrick at 12:25 PM | Comments (3)
March 12, 2004
The librarians pity and fear me...
I've taken to borrowing DVDs and VHS tapes from the main branch of the Riverside library. Their selection is inconsistent at best, but I try not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
At some point early in my VHS/DVD borrowing career, I made the fatal error of returning a VHS tape in the first-floor book drop--more of a slide than a drop, I should hasten to point out--instead of returning it to the AV desk upstairs.
As I've come so keenly to learn, once is all it takes.
Ever since then, the checking-out process goes a little something like this.
I head over to the AV desk with my choices. They scan my library card, at which point I can see the red-flagged text pop up on their monitor. Whoever's helping me checks out the VHS or DVD, the very picture of helpfulness. They hand me my choices, along with my receipt telling when they're due. Then, just as I think I'm free, just as I think I'm off the hook, they smile sweetly and say, "Don't forget to return these here, sir, instead of the book drop downstairs."
Insert mental gnashing of teeth.
I'm branded--forever, as near as I can tell. Months after the incident, I once asked the person helping me how long those notes stayed on one's record, and if they could possibly remove it then as I had learned my lesson. They grunted at me and made no move to delete it. I felt like a sex offender, making a lame attempt to explain to their parole officer why they shouldn't have to notify their new neighbors every time they move in next door.
"Sure, Seitz. You're reformed. Tell it to the head librarian."
Posted by patrick at 08:24 AM | Comments (2)
March 08, 2004
Damn concerned parents...
According to a Yahoo! News article, a Pennsylvanian entrepreneur wants to put 11-by-25 inch vinyl advertisements along the windows of local school buses. He's already approached 42 school districts with the plan, in which they'd get up to 40% of the gross revenue from the ads and veto power for deciding which ads were age-appropriate.
The Montour School District in western Pennsylvania has been approached with this idea, but they're still deciding if it's worth it. If approved, the advertisements will earn the district a cool $140,000. Heck, they could admit seven teachers to the ranks of the working poor for a whole school year with that kind of cash.
The local school district watchdog group (the Montour Taxpayers Organization) has a beef with the proposal, though. They don't want kids exposed to advertisements in their school bus.
MTO President Michelle Bitner says, "We as parents feel our children are subjected to an enormous amount of advertising on a daily basis and one place to keep it out of is schools and school buses."
She's right about that enormous amount of advertising that the kids are seeing each day, but I'd wager on the zany notion that maybe, just maybe, the tender kidlets are getting at least 80% of their daily exposure to advertisements on the TV(s)...at home.
That "one place to keep [advertisement] out of" that Bitner mentions is called the home. If those concerned parents let their kids watch TV, they're holding the schools to a higher standard of discipline than they themselves enforce--another example of parents foisting their duties onto schools, which could stay pretty busy with education alone if they didn't also have the social/parental obligations that fell on their shoulders for want of anybody else to pick up the slack. And if Bitner and the gang don't have TVs at home, then I don't understand why they're complaining. If the only advertising their kids see is on the way to and from school, those kids have much better odds of avoiding consumer sheephood later in life. If worst came to absolute worst, perhaps Bitner and the others could make the ultimate sacrifice and drive their own damn kids to school, if the buses offend their tender sensibilities so much.
Posted by patrick at 06:32 AM | Comments (0)
March 05, 2004
Mullet Contest Winner Announced!
It's time for me to announce the winner of the mullet contest, which was unveiled at the end of September and was due to be judged months ago. My senior photo hairstyle was deemed not to be a mullet, and by an almost universal consensus. Although there were many thoughtful and articulate entries, there can be only one winner--literally, because I only had one dented 6.25-pound can of pickled jalapenos slices to offer up by way of a prize.
And the pickled jalapenos slices go to...Kyle Pagel!
Here's his winning entry:
During this post the top/front/side portion of any givin hair style will be referred to as SECTION A, and the back portion of any hairstyle will be referred to as SECTION B.--
To Sam- Your definition of the mullet, while good, is simply incomplete. Based on the definition you gave, your mother most likely has a mullet, as does my mother (and sister, grandmother, and my hippie ass uncle). Unfortunately, your defintion left out two very important defining factors, which I will discuss, in detail.
1) A mullet is not merely a covering of the neck (which is why the term "Norco Neck Warmer" is so misleading) but a combination of short hair on SECTION and long in SECTION B (hence the term "business in front, party in the back"). Look closely at SECTION A of Patrick's head. The hair is clearly combed back. If allowed to lay straight it would have very will covered parts of his ear. This is, sadly, too long of hair on the side to consider it a mullet. Now, if the hair of SECTION B had been longer (at least past the shoulders), then you would be able to justify calling this monstrosity of a hair style a mullet. With the length of SECTION B on Pat's head, SECTION A should have been much shorter (think flat top). Patrick clearly just needed a hair cut.
2) In order to have a bona fide mullet, there must be the actual intent and desire to look like you beat your wife and listen to Motley Crue. You see, one of the many unknown mysteries of the mullet is the wearer actually believes it is cool. The mullet is not simply a hairstyle it's an attitude, a statement, and most importantly, a lifestyle. Wearers of the mullet posses a quality that is unknown to any normal man (which Patrick clearly does not posses). It truly does take a special kind of man to pull off that 'untamed, yet refined' look that only a mullet can bring.
Now, do not get me wrong, I would love to say "SEITZ HAS A MULLET..." all day long, but I know in my heart that that is just not the case. Bad hair cut? Definitely. But not a mullet. (But why the hell is anybody worrying about the mullet thing? Doesn't anybody else notice that Patrick has NO EYES!)
[Pagel is very observant to bring up my kohl-lined eyes in my senior picture, which pre-dated Johnny Depp's trend-setting use of it in "Pirates of the Caribbean" by a good seven years.]
Posted by patrick at 01:33 AM | Comments (1)
March 02, 2004
Listen up, Sonus...
Just when I was starting to not regard my imminent 26th birthday as a memento mori, I get this unsolicited jewel in the mail today from a company by the name of Sonus:
Dear David P. Seitz,
Hearing loss usually doesn't happen all at once. It sneaks up on your a little at a time, so gradually you might not notice the change at first. That's why it's so important to detect and address it early -- and why I'm writing to you today.
The letter went on to try and sell me on the concept of digital hearing-aids, even including a coupon for one hearing-aid (y'know, because they're not the sort of thing you'd want to buy in pairs) for a mere $999. My dad, whose name was very similar to mine, would be a few years shy of 70 if he were still alive today. If I wasn't accustomed to receiving the occasional piece of mail addressed to me and meant for him, this letter from Sonus would have really taken the wind out of my sails.
I'm not sure what's more embarrassing for the fine folks at Sonus--that they're trying to hawk hearing-aids to 25-year-olds or to dead guys?
After I had a nice little chuckle over their letter, I gave it some thought. What is gradual age-related deafness, really, but nature's way of saying you're old enough to ignore whomever you want? In a way, the diminished senses that so often accompany one's golden years are merely Father Time's way of running interference for us, letting us sidestep the unpleasant sights, sounds, smells, and tastes we weren't able to ignore or avoid in our youth.
There are so many experiences that I'll relish all the more once I’m old—driving the Ontario portion of the 60 Freeway with the windows down, say, or eating as Gus Jr.'s. I'll have societal carte blanche to mutter rude comments in the presence of mean people, too deaf to realize that my mutter will then be about as quiet as a leaf-blower. And think of all the proudly ignorant/infantile/shallow/misspelled bumper stickers and license plate frames I'll never have to read (like "My other ride is Justin Timberlake," a recent abomination I encountered at a red light in Redlands)!
Posted by patrick at 11:11 PM | Comments (0)
March 01, 2004
"Goooooin' to the chapel and we're gonna git maaaa-aaaa-aaaarried..."
So, Mitch Bugajsky and I took a trip to San Francisco this weekend, and...
Tada! Newly-sanctioned marital bliss!
Actually, that's just a picture from the New Year's Eve party that I've been meaning (and forgetting) to post. Besides, Mitch is getting hitched in a few months--to a woman, no less!--so it never would have worked out between us.
Posted by patrick at 07:32 AM | Comments (1)